NSMike
Tsurani Great One
This particular story is kind of still in the roughing-in stage. I don't have a major plot line worked out, or any details yet. This is just how I started writing. I was listening to the Nickel Creek song, "The Lighthouse's Tale" and thought it would be cool to write a fantasy story involving a lighthouse. Let me know what you think.
There was nothing unusual about the night to Gaelin. Typical for his simple life. Twilight was just reaching its stride, and he was slightly late for work, though he doubted anyone would suffer for it. He climbed the aging wooden stairs that wound around the inside of this hollow tower. At the top, he found the lens, a massive work of polished metal and complex pieces of glass he never understood. Between the polished metal and the lens lied the area that was most important to those ships. He poured the necessary oil, and took his tinderbox from his coat. Flame leaped into life, and the polished metal reflected the light into the giant lens. His job was done for the night.
Gaelin had considered himself a solitary man for a long time now, and did not mind the quiet evenings reading in the house not far from the tower. He traveled into town every now and then to pick up a new book or two, buy food and visit the dockmaster for his pay, but otherwise not much else occupied his time. On clear nights he would watch for ships, but rarely saw one anymore near this small port town. New York was getting all of the attention now. Not that he minded.
He was just about to begin reading his latest purchase when a knock on the door disturbed his peace. He grunted and stood from the rocking chair. The light outside the window said twilight was almost over. Awfully late for someone to be visiting. The door creaked on its hinges as it swung open to reveal the smiling face of Nicholas Landry. Gaelin raised an eyebrow.
Landry had been in town for a few months now, but no one had really welcomed him. He claimed to have come from London to New York, and found his way north to the town while looking for a suitable place to settle for a while. He said he liked the town, and thought of building there. Someone had been talking in Jessup’s Mercantile about Landry being the son of a British lord, exploring the new world as much as he could before his father forced politics on him. Gaelin could understand that, even if he had no desire to adventure himself. It was not right to force a man into something he didn’t want to do, and Gaelin had had enough of that from his own father. That made Gaelin the most receptive to Landry of anyone in town, which still wasn’t saying much. He tolerated the boy’s company because occasionally he had something interesting to say. Tonight, however, he just wanted to read.
Gaelin’s decidedly unenthusiastic reaction to his visit hardly fazed Landry. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite lighthouse keeper.” The boy had many strange habits, and this was one of them. It was as though he hadn’t expected to find the man in his own home. Landry pushed past Gaelin and sat at the table, for the first time noticing the book on the stand next to the chair. “Oh, got a new one? What’s it about this time? A helpless woman being saved by a strong man? A fearless sea captain going after riches?”
Gaelin’s expression never changed. “A fool boy who find himself at the mercy of an old hermit unexpectedly.”
Landry laughed impudently. “That sounds like a tale worth reading. And just how does this old hermit put the fool boy at his mercy?”
“I haven’t read the book yet.” Gaelin walked to the rocking chair and sat. “But if you’re interested, you can sit and wait here while I read, and I’ll tell you when I find out myself.”
There was nothing unusual about the night to Gaelin. Typical for his simple life. Twilight was just reaching its stride, and he was slightly late for work, though he doubted anyone would suffer for it. He climbed the aging wooden stairs that wound around the inside of this hollow tower. At the top, he found the lens, a massive work of polished metal and complex pieces of glass he never understood. Between the polished metal and the lens lied the area that was most important to those ships. He poured the necessary oil, and took his tinderbox from his coat. Flame leaped into life, and the polished metal reflected the light into the giant lens. His job was done for the night.
Gaelin had considered himself a solitary man for a long time now, and did not mind the quiet evenings reading in the house not far from the tower. He traveled into town every now and then to pick up a new book or two, buy food and visit the dockmaster for his pay, but otherwise not much else occupied his time. On clear nights he would watch for ships, but rarely saw one anymore near this small port town. New York was getting all of the attention now. Not that he minded.
He was just about to begin reading his latest purchase when a knock on the door disturbed his peace. He grunted and stood from the rocking chair. The light outside the window said twilight was almost over. Awfully late for someone to be visiting. The door creaked on its hinges as it swung open to reveal the smiling face of Nicholas Landry. Gaelin raised an eyebrow.
Landry had been in town for a few months now, but no one had really welcomed him. He claimed to have come from London to New York, and found his way north to the town while looking for a suitable place to settle for a while. He said he liked the town, and thought of building there. Someone had been talking in Jessup’s Mercantile about Landry being the son of a British lord, exploring the new world as much as he could before his father forced politics on him. Gaelin could understand that, even if he had no desire to adventure himself. It was not right to force a man into something he didn’t want to do, and Gaelin had had enough of that from his own father. That made Gaelin the most receptive to Landry of anyone in town, which still wasn’t saying much. He tolerated the boy’s company because occasionally he had something interesting to say. Tonight, however, he just wanted to read.
Gaelin’s decidedly unenthusiastic reaction to his visit hardly fazed Landry. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite lighthouse keeper.” The boy had many strange habits, and this was one of them. It was as though he hadn’t expected to find the man in his own home. Landry pushed past Gaelin and sat at the table, for the first time noticing the book on the stand next to the chair. “Oh, got a new one? What’s it about this time? A helpless woman being saved by a strong man? A fearless sea captain going after riches?”
Gaelin’s expression never changed. “A fool boy who find himself at the mercy of an old hermit unexpectedly.”
Landry laughed impudently. “That sounds like a tale worth reading. And just how does this old hermit put the fool boy at his mercy?”
“I haven’t read the book yet.” Gaelin walked to the rocking chair and sat. “But if you’re interested, you can sit and wait here while I read, and I’ll tell you when I find out myself.”
